


Two Truths, Don't Die

by Aki



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki/pseuds/Aki
Summary: Nightmares plague members of the institute, as well as some select Downworlders.  Pretty soon, it's impossible to tell the difference between what is reality, and what is just a dream.  But can they figure out the truth in time to save the ones they love?





	Two Truths, Don't Die

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little prelude into our main story--the next chapters should be longer! Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ^_^

Alec stands at the edge of the balcony, gaunt-faced and white-knuckled as he grips the stone lip tightly with both hands. He peers over the ledge, staring down at the city lights, which shine bright and brilliant like diamonds against a dark velvet screen. *Beautiful...* He thinks. He lifts one foot.

"Alexander." The familiar voice breaks through the sounds of the city below, smashes through the discord in his head, carries to him over the whistle of the wind. Magnus Bane steps out onto the terrace, his kohl rimmed eyes trained on Alec's tense form.

"It's my fault..." Alec lifts the other foot, hoists himself up. There's only a few inches of stone beneath his feet now, and the tips of his combat boots hang over the edge. For the moment, he stands stock-still. Up here, above the rest of the world, the wind is faint, but its gentle caress seems to beckon him. He could jump.

"No, it's not," Magnus insists, his tone deceptively calm. He lifts one hand, slowly, as if the movement might further provoke Alec to take that next step. As if that slight gesture might plunge him over the edge. Magnus takes one step. Two. Each move forward is halted, hesitant. If he moves too fast... "None of this is your fault."

"I killed Jocelyn. She's dead. Because of me..." He slides one foot forward, and it takes every ounce of control Magnus has not to lunge for him in that moment, to pull him back to safety. Alec could jump.

"She's dead, Alexander. But not because of you. Just come back down. We can talk about this. You--"

"Don't." The sudden dissonance of the sound of Alec's voice is painful, effectively stopping Magnus' words in his throat, and the Warlock winces. "I know what I did. Nothing, not even your magic, can change that."

Somewhere below, a car horn honks, breaks skid, someone shouts. But the city might as well be miles away, eons really. Nothing else matters in this moment. Nothing except what he did...what pain he caused.

"Alexander, please...just come down. We'll talk about this," Magnus all but pleads once more, shifting forward, so excruciatingly slowly.

"There's nothing to talk about, Magnus..." Alec's voice is hollow now, as hollow as he feels inside.

He should jump.

"Alec please--"

So he jumps.

***  
"Magnus!"

Magnus' eyes snap open, and Alec catches a brief glimmer of their true molten gold form, before the glamour settles into place once more and his eyes return to their customary deep brown. Alec feels a twinge of regret...he doesn't much mind Mangus' warlock mark. It's just one of the many beautiful things about the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

"You were shouting."

"Was I?" Magnus shifts so that he's sitting up fully now in the chair he collapsed in at some point earlier in that night, and it takes a moment before he fully recalls where he is. He's back at his loft, with Alec peering at him anxiously from the adjacent chair. A half-empty glass of wine sits on the table beside Mangus' chair, and based on how dark it is behind the large window, it's either very late at night or very early in the morning.

"You screamed my name..." Alec raises his eyebrows, and from the way his brow knits together, his concern is obvious enough.

"Did I? Hmm, my apologies Alexander. I didn't intend to frighten you." Magnus rises with a slight flourish, crossing the loft to his bedroom, Alec trailing behind him. He makes for the closet, pulling open the door and rummaging around for a fresh shirt.

Alec comes up beside Magnus as he absently pushes various articles of clothing aside, and studies him silently for a moment. "What did you dream about?" The Shadowhunter asks.

"Mm...honestly? I don't fully recall..." The lie rolls off his tongue before he can really think about it--no use telling Alec the truth...it would only cause him undue worry. And Magnus Bane knows exactly what worrying does to Alec Lightwood. Yes, that kind of anguish has no place in Alec's mind right now. There's a lot going on right now, more pressing matters than that of a bad dream...

Magnus slips out of his nightshirt and into a silky red one, and Alec catches a glimpse of his tanned, well muscled chest. He clears his throat when Mangus catches him staring, and lifts his gaze back to Mangus', who buttons the front of his shirt with quick, practiced motions, all the while holding Alec's gaze. 

"Look, Magus. If you need to talk about something, you can talk to me. You don't have to hide anything from me," Alec tells him, his tone softening just a bit. "I'm here for you."

Mangus feels a sharp pang in his chest, an unexpected tug at his heart. How long had it been since someone had shown genuine concern for him? For something other than what his magic could do, what his spells could promise? Far too long...much longer than Magnus would care to admit. So he won't admit it. Not now, at least.

He turns to face Alec fully now, and he reaches out to smooth down the collar of his Shadowhunter's shirt, the gesture light and affectionate. "Thank you, Alexander, I'll remember that. Now, how about we pop by Paris for some breakfast? I know this little place that serves the best crepes you've ever had..."


End file.
